The Price to Pay
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Betraying Harry was easy. But the consequences were too great.


She owes nothing to Harry Potter. Sure, the bloke is likable enough, but all he's done for her is make her already fragile best friend even more emotional. And now, because of him, her mum and countless other Ministry employees are facing problems at work.

It isn't personal. Really, it isn't. Marietta has nothing against Harry, no ill wishes. But she has to look out for herself and her family.

Hands trembling slightly, the Ravenclaw folds the letter from her mum, tucking it into her pocket. She stares at her untouched breakfast, the news from home having ruined her appetite.

"You've got that look," Cho says.

"What look?" Marietta asks, a bit too defensive.

"Like you're thinking about something serious."

With a forced smile, Marietta looks up at her friend. Behind Cho, at the staff table, she can see a particularly grim Umbridge. "I'm just thinking about tonight's meeting," she says, careful to keep her voice low. "I'm sure it's going to be exciting."

This seems to surprise Cho. Her eyes widen, attention flickering briefly towards the Gryffindor table. "Really? I didn't think you enjoyed it very much."

With a shrug, Marietta chuckles. "I guess it's grown on me."

OoOoO

Pressure. That's the word her mum used. Pressure from the Ministry, and the ordeal with Harry Potter and Dumbledore has gotten out of hand.

Marietta can relieve that pressure so easily. All it takes is a few simple words to the right person. Her family will be rewarded for her cooperation.

"It's the right thing to do," she tells herself firmly, pushing aside the traces of doubt that linger in her mind.

She trembles as she enters the office.

"Students must knock first, Miss Edgecombe," Umbridge says in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers. "Perhaps a detention will remind y-"

"I have information on Harry Potter," the young witch interrupts quickly.

There's a moment of silence. Umbridge studies her with narrowed eyes before giving a wide smile. "Information?"

"Yes, Professor. About a rebel group he's leading."

The smile somehow widens more, impossibly so. It's a wonder it doesn't split her face completely in half. "Sit, dear," she instructs, her fat, ringed fingers wiggling towards a chair across from the desk. "Tell me, Miss Edgecombe, do you take sugar in your tea?"

OoOoO

SNEAK. Her betrayal is written across her face for all to see. She is the traitor. She is the reason Umbridge is in control of the school.

Marietta is grateful that the Healer has taken pity on her and is allowing her to stay in the hospital wing while they try out remedies to remove the blemishes.

If she lays here, curled up and quiet, perhaps she can avoid contact by pretending to be asleep. Or dead. She almost wishes she is dead.

It had been the right thing, but the cost is too great. The members of the group, people she had called friends, had looked upon her in disgust. The Slytherins had teased her, had demanded to know what's wrong with her face.

Here, hidden beneath the white sterile sheets, Marietta is safe. She can almost escape the hatred.

"Marietta?"

Don't look up. Stay still. Pretend to be oblivious.

"I know you're awake. You snore when you sleep."

Swearing quietly under her breath, Marietta reluctantly pulls herself into a sitting position. She keeps her damp eyes fixed upon the creases in the sheets, refusing to look at Cho. "I suppose you're here to tell me you hate me," she mumbles.

"I hate what you did," Cho says softly. "But I don't hate you."

Her voice is gentle and warm. Slowly, Marietta lifts her gaze. Cho doesn't look away in horror at the grotesque branding.

"That was a rotten thing that Hermione Granger did," Cho adds, lips turning into a frown.

Marietta almost smiles. Almost. "What's that?" she asks, nodding towards a paper bag that rests in Cho's hands.

"Something to help with the...with your condition," Cho answers awkwardly.

"Cho, they can't fix it, and they have experience. You're brilliant, but I dunno what you can do that they can't."

The other girl shakes her head, tugging the bag open. Reaching inside, she pulls out foundation and powder, grinning sheepishly. "If we can't erase it, we could at least cover it up."

Now, Marietta does smile. It's the first smile she's worn in what feels like ages, accompanied by a soft laugh. Slowly, she nods, accepting the beauty products. "Well, it's a start." 


End file.
